Brain activity
by cornwallace
Summary: You got seven minutes.


_Sorry for this one._

* * *

**!#$Brain activity&()**

* * *

Moving forward into the street, my mind is a blank. Imbalanced, I stumble down onto one knee, scraping it through my white skirt. Red dampens the thin material, soaking through the cloth.

"Amy" a strong voice yells from behind me, but I can't look away from the light. The big light that's rushing towards me at what seems like a hundred miles an hour, and I can't help but feel scared and lucky that I get to be a part of this, it's so real, so unbelievably beautiful in all ways imaginable.

Then suddenly it stops. Everything stops, and the world is no more.

Nothing…

Nothing at all?

Let's pretend it never happened, okay?

* * *

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

* * *

I'm lost; it hurts my pride a bit to admit this, but I've been lost in these woods longer than is currently possible to remember. Days. Months, even. The leaves are bright shades of yellow and orange until I step on them. Anything my foot touches withers and dies. Why is this, I wonder. How long has it been like this? Has it always been like this? I didn't think it was, but then again I haven't been all here. Or am I just not all here now? It doesn't matter. 

I'm not tired. Not hungry. I just keep walking, the moon and sun spinning around me faster, and more times than I can count. I tried counting things; the days. My steps. My mind always wanders, and I have to start over again.

Stars revolving above me, they never stay too long. Never long enough to properly admire. I'd like to touch them, but I'm far too short. That ever happen to you?

Suddenly dizzy. Feel like I'm being rocked too hard. What's going on here? Things are spinning, and not just the stuff in space. Mobius betrays me, and I fall to my knees. My torn skirt, now blackened with dirt. I call out, and my cries echo back to me, sending a chill down my spine with each return. My high pitched voice shattering the quiet tranquility around me.

I'm lost. I'm alone. I'm confused. I need something that hasn't quite presented itself. What could it possibly be? Oh, well you never know, really. You never can be sure.

* * *

The desert is even more barren than the forest. I don't like it here; can't say I ever did. It seemed like a necessary obstacle to… what was I a saying? 

Oh yeah. The desert. Hot and sticky it is, here. Absolutely awful, in terms of climate conditions. Driving me absolutely mad, it is. Sweat pours from every tiny orifice on my body. I feel like I just got out of the shower, only a lot more disgusting. A shower of filth, if you will.

"Hello?"

My voice echoes through the vast plains, dry and hoarse. My voice is ugly now, or perhaps it has always been ugly. Just like everything else about me.

I sit in the sand, the grains getting in my stockings and irritating the shit out of me. I start to cry, and a lake pools between my legs. Each droplet that hits the soil breathes beautiful life once more into the dead soil beneath me.

Life can grow again. It's amazing.

A miracle, I think.

* * *

No idea how many moons have gone by since reestablishing life in the desert. Plenty, I'm sure. It doesn't matter, because what does matter, is life has flourished! Fields full of beautiful flowers of all colors, shapes, sizes and scents. 

Everything is so perfect in my little world. And yet….

A bad wind hits me, a moment of displeasure, perhaps. Something about this place that isn't right anymore. I suppose it's just time to move along.

I'll miss the flowers.

* * *

Everything's started dying beneath my feet again, and that's when the world's color seemed to be gray. I don't see a point in going on, really. If everything I touch just dies, what's the point of going anywhere? Doing anything? Quitting seems more logical. Just sitting here would seem reasonable. 

Sitting on the brown dirt, my color is brown. So that makes the world brown, and that's slightly better than gray.

More moons pass. It's been ages, but seriously, who is counting? It's just that many more meaningless moments before my eventual decay. It's scary to think about, and that sucks the color out of everything.

So, naturally, that's when things got really dark.

* * *

Not sure how I managed the fire out here on the sand, but it's truly something to behold. A perfect display of something dead becoming something useful. Something completely lifeless and seemingly useless coming to life again. Creating heat, light, and warmth. 

Truly amazing, it is. Truly amazing.

* * *

The dying embers fade slowly away in the darkness. No moons are passing, because no moon is out. No moon. No stars. No sun. 

No sky. Just darkness.

I wonder. What could be out there in the darkness? Probably nothing at all. It's probably just darkness.

Suddenly a pink raindrop lands on the ground before me, and I can see the surrounding area again. The world lights up, as raindrops of red, blue, green, yellow and every other color in the spectrum rains down upon the land, feeding it with the proper nourishment it needs. This makes me smile.

A word seems significant. Hope? No, that's not right.

But what could it be?

* * *

Trying to remember where I was before all of this started. Trying to remember the events that led up to this exact moment in the bright, hot desert. I almost wish it was dark again. Dark and cold; it was better than hot. Hot and sweaty. Gosh, I stink. 

But my mind keeps searching itself for an answer. It can't be too hard to find, can it? Where was I before the desert? The forest, I think. And everything dies. But before that?

The air is thick, and unpleasant to breath in. Wind isn't a tool like you think it would be; it's a plague. Instead of cooling down, it's hot and stupid. Not to mention the sand it carries with it, a very nasty crunch every time my teeth lock . A very disgusting, very dry taste doesn't have any intentions of leaving my mouth. With no water or food around, it can't be prevented.

It's not like I'm hungry. How long has it been? I almost want to stop, and just go to sleep when something catches my eye. A palm tree off in the distance. Perhaps coconuts? It would help with the taste, and that would make everything okay again. I'm sure of it.

It's a reason to keep going. A reason to push myself forward. That tiny little tree I can barely see fills my chest with this feeling I can't explain. I feel light as a feather. I can walk all day.

* * *

The tree is getting bigger and bigger, and I'm not sure if it's because it's really getting bigger, or I'm just getting closer, but what excites me even more than that is what I can see now. There's a little pond by the tree, and that means water. 

A nice swim would do me right.

So I'm now sprinting towards this pond, but I don't seem to be moving anymore, and now it seems to be taking forever. Moons keep passing, and I'm getting confused. Dizzy, even. I think I'm going to be sick. Perhaps I overexerted myself.

Black sludge pours from my mouth into a grotesque, oversized dollop before me. This makes my color black, and the world's color is black now too.

* * *

The sky is purple. That makes my color purple. Big gray suddenly clouds blot the sky, but not entirely. They turn from gray to a bright light, shining down on me. I get up, and wipe my hands on my skirt. When did I leave the desert? Where did this grass come from? As moons pass it grows and grows. 

Of course I haven't forgotten about the pond. The swim. I need to wash. My skin doesn't feel right.

Scanning the plains for the tree, I finally spot it, and start slowly walking in it's general direction. I'm so glad it's still there. It's nice to have something to look forward to.

My legs are stiff, and it's hard to walk. My hands don't move from tightly grasping the elbows of the opposite arm. My body aches, and it's pretty cold out here. Not to mention the fact that I'm still sweating, for some odd reason.

It's getting harder to walk as I approach the pond. Like my body just doesn't want to make it. Perhaps it's everything suddenly catching up to me; the walking, the lack of nourishment. Maybe.

I finally manage to stagger over to the pond. Look down into the nice clear water, only to see

oh god

I'm old. At least by sixty years. My skin is wrinkled, and I'm starting to literally decay. I cry red tears, and the clouds turn black.

I realize what it has come to when the dark rain hits the earth, making it impossible to see anything once again. But this time it's different. This is when I get really scared for the first time.

* * *

…………………………………. . . .. …. .. .. .. .. .. . .. . . . . …. .. ….. ……. …… … .. …. …… ……………… ….. ……… . …………… 


End file.
